


After

by nativeportlandian



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Reaper War, but also happiness, relationship could be platonic or not, your choice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 16:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13745070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nativeportlandian/pseuds/nativeportlandian
Summary: After the destruction of the Reapers, Garrus looks for hope in a hopeless galaxy. Post-Destroy Ending.





	After

For six weeks, there was nothing he could do. He was stuck in what might as well have been purgatory, unable to do anything but refresh his Omni-Tool feed over and over again. There was nothing every time, but that didn’t stop him from trying. He’d pace up and down the crew deck, from the main battery to the crew quarters and back again. It drove James utterly insane. The Alliance marine sat at the table in the mess, his head in his hands. He’d stopped trying to tell the pacing turian that nothing had changed within the last five seconds.

Garrus just ignored him anyway.

He wanted - no, needed - to get back to Earth. The idea of leaving Shepard behind wasn’t new, of course. He’d seen her go so many times before. But each time, no matter what, she came back. Hell, the woman returned from death and it hadn’t entirely shocked him. 

But this…

What if she didn’t come back?

Just thinking about it made him shake his head, as if to clear the offending thoughts. It never worked. Cue the Omni-Tool refreshing. 

“Go outside, Scars,” James growled. His forehead lay in the crook of his arm. “Help the ship repairs. Look at the sun. Eat a bug. Something. Just stop fuckin’ making a goddamn trench in the ship.”

Garrus bit back a snarl of annoyance. “I don’t see you doing anything productive, Vega.”

The marine slowly raised his head, eyes narrowed with annoyance. “Fuck. You.”

Deciding not to dignify that with a response, Garrus stomped over to the elevator and pressed to option for the CIC. He needed a change of scenery anyway.

The CIC, once a bustling hub of activity, was dark and silent. Garrus quickly made his way to the bridge - the empty area where the galaxy map once flickered made his stomach clench terribly. 

The bridge wasn’t much better. The only sign of life was a light snoring from the front of the Normandy. Garrus sighed. Ever since EDI’s apparent “death” after the war, Joker had sequestered himself to the useless helm. He’d turned away anyone who’d tried to talk to him and would just sit in his chair and drink. How he got the alcohol was a question Garrus had briefly considered before turning the thought away. As if he didn’t have his own way of coping.

Joker was sleeping now, an empty beer bottle hanging limply in his hand. He looked...ragged. His beard had grown scruffy and he smelled like he hadn’t bathed in weeks. It wouldn’t be terribly surprising if he hadn’t. Garrus wasn’t sure he looked much better anyway.

“He must run out soon.” Liara’s soft voice startled him, and he whipped around to look at her. She stood with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, blue eyes focused on the pilot in question. A tiny sigh escaped her. “I don’t know where he hoarded it all in the first place.”

Garrus rumbled in agreement. “He must have a cooling unit hidden somewhere up here.”

A small smile pulled at her lips, but didn’t reach her eyes. She looked incredibly tired. Her usually soft blue hue was marred with dark purple hollows under her eyes. Garrus wondered if she had nightmares too.

Liara looked up at him. “I wanted to show you something.”

...

It was a blip. A little tiny blip in the readings Liara was monitoring of communication relay activity. Garrus actually had to squint to see it.

“It could be nothing,” the Shadow Broker murmured. But her glittering eyes betrayed her excitement, however contained. “But it could also be the first sign that the relays are coming back.”

Garrus’s usual pessimism immediately made itself present in his mind. Her readings could be off. It could just be an anomaly. Maybe it’s the only and last sign we’ll ever get. The relays might never be fixed. He refused to voice them, squashing them away into the corner of his thoughts. Shepard would’ve thought differently. In that little blip, she would have seen hope.

And maybe that was what he needed - what they all needed.

“We should speed up ship repairs as much as we can,” he said, straightening up. “We need to be ready to go as soon as the relays are up.”

Liara’s mouth opened slightly, as though she were taken aback by what he said. Her eyes went over his face, flickering rapidly as though she were trying to read him. But she quickly regained her composure, closing her mouth and giving him a sharp nod. “Of course. I’ll keep monitoring the relays. I’ll let you know if I see anything else.”

Leaving Liara’s office, Garrus passed James at the mess again. He stopped and wrapped his knuckles once right next to the marine’s head. James shot up, confusion and anger painting his features. “Wha -”

“Get up, Vega,” he barked. He could feel the commander’s tone in his own voice, and it made him shiver slightly. “We have a lot of work ahead of us.”

...

He was in the battery, going over some of his older (and now irrelevant) calibrations when Tali ran in. She was practically out of breath - she’d likely taken the stairs from engineering. He rarely saw her lately - she was busy running tests on the recently repaired drive core. 

“Garrus!” she gasped, voice slightly shrill. “Come quick! Liara has a steady signal!” Without waiting for a response, she turned elegantly on one foot and scampered back out the door. Garrus shut down his interface - for once, calibrations could wait.

Practically the entire squad was jammed into Liara’s office, all crowded around her main interface. The orange glow lit all of their faces, highlighting their excitement. They all looked up at him as he walked in, smiles touching practically every face. 

“You’ll never believe this,” Kaidan said, his words escaping with a slight laugh. “I honestly never thought it would happen.”

“What is it?” Garrus asked, directing the question to Liara. The Shadow Broker looked almost as happy as he had seen her in years. 

“The relays,” she said. Garrus could just barely see tears quivering at the corners of her eyes. “They’re back online, Garrus.”

It was too good to be true, and he wanted to express that. But the little commander Shepard that had taken up residence in his head was already making plans. She knew exactly what to do next.

“Joker,” Garrus spoke into the comm system, “Get your ass in flying shape and set coordinates for Earth.”

...

The trip was somewhat longer than Garrus anticipated, and that made him antsy. It seemed that everyone wanted to travel somewhere right now, and while that made sense considering that soldiers had been wanting to go home to their loved ones for over a month, he wanted to be on Earth six weeks ago.

The Normandy wasn’t flying in her best shape, but it was flying, and that’s all that mattered. Joker hadn’t been too keen on limping all the way to Earth, but the promising rebooting of the AI core had given him the boost he needed to get a little bit closer to his old cocky self. He’d even reprimanded Garrus like a concerned father (“If my baby putters out in the middle of space because you jumped the gun I’m going to take the stick up your ass and shove it down your throat.”). Garrus took it as a good sign.

The Sol System was terribly crowded - a side effect of the Citadel being parked there for the time being. Despite the hailings from other ships to congratulate them, see how they were doing, or ask for help, Garrus remained steady on his target. The rest of the crew didn’t seem to mind - everyone seemed anxious to return to Earth.

At first, it looked as though they wouldn’t be able dock anywhere near London. The main port was half destroyed, and the other half was so crowded with ships that they wouldn’t be able to land if they tried.

But as soon as Joker hailed the docks, a familiar, gruff voice took over comms.

“Normandy. It’s good to see you,” Admiral Hackett rumbled. If Garrus didn’t know any better, he’d say the Alliance admiral sounded relieved. “Welcome back to London.”

“I’d ask permission to dock, sir,” Joker said, “but I’m not even sure that’s an option.”

“There’s an emergency docking port at the other end of the station,” Hackett stated. “I’m giving you priority clearance.”

Joker raised his eyebrows. Garrus felt his heart beat a little faster. “Are you sure, admiral? We can wait. I’m sure there’s more important -”

“Your presence is requested immediately. Hackett out.” 

The pilot looked somewhat taken aback. “Yeesh. Hope we aren’t in any trouble for abandoning…” he trailed off, face falling. Garrus immediately began to worry. What if they were to be blamed? What if the Alliance decided to press charges for leaving Shepard behind?

Once more, the commander took over. “He said he was glad to see us, didn’t he?”

Joker swallowed, still uncertain. He didn’t seem to have a witty comeback ready. His gray eyes looked almost hollow.

“Joker,” Garrus said, his voice low. “We didn’t abandon her.”

The pilot was quiet for a long moment. Then he took a breath. “Let’s go see some friendly faces, then.”

A good portion of the crew was antsy about getting off the ship right away. Since they didn’t exactly have someone really in charge, there was some argument over who could go and who should stay - at least for now.

Garrus was getting off the Normandy as quickly as possible, and there was no one who would be able to stop him. The crew agreed that this was sensible. James and Kaidan ended up following him off because they were still technically active Alliance soldiers, and were likely to be assigned somewhere on Earth.

Hackett waited for them at the dock, a few decorated soldiers standing at attention behind him. He looked older than he was; the scars on his face seemed to draw inward and wrinkle the grayish skin on his face. Looking closer at his escorts, Garrus could tell they weren’t exactly in the best shape either - they were exhausted.

The admiral saluted them, and his men followed. Kaidan and Vega stopped in their tracks and saluted back. Garrus wasn’t entirely interested in human military custom - he had exactly one thing on his mind.

“Has there been any sign of her?”

Admiral Hackett blinked as he relaxed his salute, his thick eyebrows pulling down on his face. “Getting right down to business, I see.” Garrus stifled an impatient growl. “If you would all follow me, I have some things I need to discuss.”

He began talking almost immediately about the ending of the war planetside, the casualties, the destruction. Garrus hung back as they walked in the direction of a waiting skycar. He didn’t want to hear about the death and turmoil - he was all to familiar with it. Kaidan and James listened intently to the admiral, nodding and asking questions when appropriate. 

The skycar took them to a building that was in the process of being repaired by groups of brightly clad humans. It was large and crowded, but landing on the roof made it a little less daunting. Hackett was still droning on about the repairs and the future of London and humanity and the Alliance. It was terribly boring and not what Garrus wanted to be hearing at all. There was an Alliance guard at the roof door, who nodded at Hackett and let them through.

Garrus quickly realized where they were - a hospital. His heart leaped at the possible implications, and he had to force himself not to run down the hallway and peer into every single room.

This wing was apparently secure, as there was not the usual milling of worried families and friends crowding the hallway. The only people around were a few doctors and nurses, and several stationed guards. Garrus almost didn’t noticed when their troop stopped suddenly.

Hackett had stopped talking. A small smile had made its way onto his tired face. He looked at Garrus. “It’s nice to give some good news these days.”

Garrus’s mandibles slackened, and then began to tremble. “Admiral?” his voice was shaky at best - his subvocals were all over the place.

Hackett’s gaze moved to focus down the hallway. “Room 1826.”

He didn’t wait for anything else. Not caring about how disruptive or rude it might be, Garrus took off down the hallway at a run. His boots clanked terribly loudly on the floor, and his armor made him slow, but there was nothing in the entire Milky Way that could stop him from reaching that room.

The guards outside of the closed door were surprised to see an armored turian running at them full speed. One of them reached for his pistol, but the other put a hand on his arm to stop him. Garrus skidded to a halt in front of them, out of breath and wild-eyed. The guard who had stalled her partner gave him a once over. 

“Garrus Vakarian?” she asked. Garrus nodded. He pulled up his Omni-Tool to bring up his I.D. but the guard shook her head.

“We know who you are,” she said. She signaled to her partner and they both stepped aside.

Garrus stared at the door. This was it. He reached out a hand to wave it open, but stopped midway. What if it wasn’t her? What if this was something else he had misunderstood? What if it was her, but she was dead or dying? What if…

His thoughts trailed away, replaced by the voice that had been coaxing him forward this whole time. She’s alive. She's alive.

He opened the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm new to the ao3 community after lurking for a while - I hope you guys enjoyed my very first post here.   
> I usually have a song that inspires what I write. This fic was inspired by the song "After the Storm" by Mumford and Sons.


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